


Just The Tip

by orphan_account



Series: Martin/Douglas [2]
Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-13
Updated: 2012-07-13
Packaged: 2017-11-09 21:45:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/458782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a prompt: I really, uh, REALLY like the idea of Douglas (or Arthur because I am cool like that) fucking Martin with just the tip of his cock, while Martin whimpers and squirms and tries his best not to push back and just take it all in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just The Tip

**Author's Note:**

> Old fic...read at your own risk.

Martin whimpered, fisting the sheets under his fingers. Thighs clenching and unclenching, he tried in vain to keep from rotating his hips or pushing back against the excruciating heat that encompassed his fluttering hole. 

“I told you we’re working on your perseverance. If you can survive this, flying is a piece of cake.” Martin had a really awful week, and by the end of it was giving the landing to Douglas without a fight, wanting to hide in a hole and never emerge. 

Douglas found his lack of enthusiasm disheartening and promised a way to remedy his will.

Martin was beginning to think though that there could be nothing worse than this divine torture. 

Douglas’ cock hung heavy between his cheeks, rubbing between the reddened flesh. He held the pilot’s hips with an iron grip, rendering him useless as he writhed and keened for more, more, Godmore before he finally pushed in. 

Martin arched his back, bearing down on that delicious feeling as much as possible. Oh, God it felt good. Douglas took no pity on him and pushed in just the tip of his erection, showing his own great amount of resistance to the pull. Martin’s anus fluttered and squeezed him exquisitely, tempting him. It felt enormously pleasing to have his head pleasured so, but to bury himself deep in Martin - well, nothing was better than that. 

Drenched in sweat, the pilot shook under Douglas’ fingers, knees shifting and elbows quaking against the bed. Holding himself still and up hurt, God, but to possibly take more of Douglas - that was worth it. 

Just the tip. The very tip rubbed against the sensitive skin, which felt amazing at first, but now he was rutting against the mattress wildly, loud moans slipping past his lips with abandon. He raised his hips and cried out, knowing Douglas adored his vocalizations, and was trying to use it against him.

“Martin, you tease.” He berated him, thrusting in slightly to earn and desperate grown, hips moving harshly to try and break free from his grip and just grind like a bitch in heat. 

“God, Douglas, please,” he groaned, biting onto his thumb to keep from making any more noise. Douglas removed his hand with a dark chuckle and pulled both of his arms behind him, lifting Martin up until he was uncomfortably ascended and he couldn’t move forward or back - though the movement did impale Douglas deeper.

Martin keened, writhed, and threw his head back, going absolutely wild with the torture. He couldn’t move, couldn’t even try to pleasure himself. Cock twitching and aching with arousal, he could only spread his thighs and hope Douglas would take pity.

He didn’t. 

The tip slid in and out, making his movements slick with the pre-come already dripping down Martin’s thigh. The pilot shuddered and moaned piteously, shaking against the onslaught. It felt so good, but it was not enough, _never_ enough. 

Martin’s body was wrought into ragged sensitivity, thighs shaking with effort as sweat dampened his forehead and slid down his back. “God. Douglas, can’t you - just a bit more?” Strained and choked, his voice came out a breathy moan, and Douglas took some pity on him finally; he let him fall to the mattress to hump and rub himself against it, earning a delightfully loud groan of appreciation.

A steady stream of cries echoed the slow rock of Douglas’ hips, one hand moving to stroke himself. Martin was exquisite, but if he wanted to keep this up, he would need some aid to take off the bite off of resisting thrusting into his keening captain. 

Martin felt a rush of both arousal and apprehension when he realized Douglas was stroking himself. With each violent shudder in response to Douglas’ on-the-edge ministrations, Martin cried a flurry of _ohpleasepleasepleaseDouglasgodIneedit_ , and _fuckmefuckmegod_ , nearly sobbing with effort as he dripped a continuous sticky trail of semen onto the bedsheets. 

Douglas wasn’t exactly close to finishing, but the combined affects of Martin’s wails and the tight, barely-encasing heat was driving him mad. He wouldn’t last long.

Douglas shallowly thrust in a few times, groaning above Martin, fingers slick on his thighs. “Do you think you’ll show a bit more of that wily will from now on?” Thrust. Douglas grunted. “I’d…hate for you to make it easy for me.” Martin groaned helplessly, absolutely quaking with need and erogenous sensitivity. Rubbing himself against the bedsheets nearly hurt.

“Yes, yes, God, _yes._ Douglas, yes. Please put it in?” His face grew cherry red. “All - all the way?” 

Well, Douglas meant to resist, but there was no going against that. “As you wish,” he purred, and rubbed his cock against the outer ring before he plunged deep inside. Martin jerked and screamed in pleasure, feet dipping harshly into the bed, fingers white as he came, and came, and came. “God, God, yes,” he sobbed, body wrecked and covered in a slick sheen of sweat. 

As the first officer spilled himself inside Martin, he swore he had never seen anything quite so breathtaking.


End file.
